In this Lifetime and Beyond
by InksandPapers
Summary: I believe in destiny, I believe in fate, I believe in having our own choices, and I believe that we create our own destiny. What we are today is a promise of yesterday. I did it many times before, and I'll do it again. I love you for a thousand years, and I'll love you for a thousand more. Glee / Grey's Anatomy crossover. Psychological/Supernatural. Quinntana and Calzona pairings.
1. Prologue : One Step Closer

**A/N:** I made a few changes, including the story title, and added quite a lot. But no worries, I didn't change the plot. So, R&R?

**Disclaimer**: Glee & Grey's Anatomy aren't mine. I own nothing, but my imagination.

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><p><strong>Prologue: One Step Closer<strong>

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><p>"<em>Lo siento, mi amor<em>..."

_Those were the last words she whispered before she finally dozed off. She rested her head on her arms, her hands touching mine—or at least, my body. I tried to talk to her, and touch her but nothing happened. I guess being ethereal had its perks and I did not enjoy any of it._

_Santana's always around. She barely left my side since the day she arrived. If not for Brittany's persistence, to which I am thankful for, she wouldn't have left for meals or bath. It's not that I wanted her to leave—I did not. But she had to rest too. It pains me to see her depressed and in tears most of the times._

_Oh wait—did I say pain? I haven't felt any. Although I think I'm supposed to, seeing the love of my life break down once in a while, and not being able to do anything about it—nothing._

_So every second, of every minute, of every day she watched over me, I watched over her. I knew she couldn't hear me, but I did sing for her while she slept. I sit and stared at her for all eternity._

_It's not how I wanted the two of us spend time together, but I guess this should work since we didn't really have any other choice. Well, I don't think I could ever have the courage to tell her how much I love her in any other way anyway, so I'm half thankful I get to experience this and that… I-I get to know her answer._

_It's been a while now, and I'm staring at her again. She looks so peaceful while she slept. _

_Maybe she could feel me? I don't know, her lips curves into a sweet smile. I hope she's dreaming about me._

_I have my eyes locked on the beautiful Latina, resting beside my body, but I sensed someone else watching her. As I flew around, I saw the very person I was most grateful for._

_Her blonde hair was tied up in a ponytail; her rosy lips pursed together; her dashing blue eyes stared at us. If you looked straight into her eyes, you would've seen sadness. But there was something else I could not read. It was as if she's thinking way too deeper than that._

_I was standing behind Santana when she entered the room. I turned sideways and I saw her on the opposite side of the bed, patting my head. She was one of the few doctors who believed that there's still something that could save me, or at least prolong my life. There were few others, but I trust her more. I don't understand why, but I have the strong will to trust her. _

_A tear streamed down her cheek as she placed her hand over mine, her eyes gazing at Santana this time. She wiped the tear off her cheek and cleared her throat. I'm sure she had seen worse, so why was she being emotional?_

* * *

><p>Santana wasn't a light sleeper. But given the circumstance, she managed to learn how to be one. She wanted to be the very first person Quinn would see as she wakes up, and she most definitely not want to miss that moment.<p>

A low sound had woke her up. She looked up, eyes half closed, and saw Quinn's doctor stand by her on the other side.

"Dr. Robbins?" She said as she rubbed her eyes. "I-is there... Is she…"

"No, no. She's fine. Everything is fine, Santana." Arizona's soft voice echoed in the room. "I'm just checking up on her, and—"

"There's no change, is there?" The brunette spat bitterly. The pediatric surgeon sighed and turned back to the motionless girl on the bed.

"I'm afraid there isn't."

Santana composed herself and placed a hand on Quinn's cheek. "It's been a while now." Her dreary eyes, tired from staying up late, squinted as she examined the younger blonde's facial features.

Arizona looked at the Latina. At that very moment, nostalgia flooded her senses. It was more than a year ago when she was sitting right where the Latina was sitting right then.

"I really miss my best friend, my frenemy, my…" The brunette's eyes were filled with tears, on the verge of falling.

The pediatric surgeon stared back at the ex-Cheerio. She knew that the agony of waiting was just too much to take for someone who really cares. She felt how great the affection Santana has for her bedridden friend. Her eyes were screaming it. She need not to say it out loud.

"I know it's hard, what you're going through right now. But I have my faith on your friend, she'll come back soon." Arizona said, flashing an assuring smile to the Latina.

Doctors don't make promises to patients or their families. It was unethical knowing that even in the simplest procedure, something could go wrong. But Arizona did. She was that optimistic with Quinn. She had too much confidence as if the battle was her own.

Santana smiled bitterly. "Dr. Robbins," She paused for a moment. "Why are you so positive about Quinn anyway?"

The blonde surgeon showed her rare smirk to the young brunette as if the question was, kind of, stupid. She closed her eyes for moment, before she looked back at those brown eyes longing for her answer.

"I just do."

Santana's eyebrows met in confusion. "You just… do?"

The perky doctor unknowingly flashed her super magic smile at the young Latina.

"Uh, huh." She reaffirmed.

"You know, you're quite different from the other doctors around here." Santana said, not taking her crossed bows in curiosity which earned a low chuckle from the surgeon.

"Yeah I get that a lot." Arizona said, winking at the young Latina.

The ex-Cheerio shrugged and smiled. She turned back to the sleeping beauty in front of her. "At least you're not that bad—not bad at all."

* * *

><p><em>San smiled. Santana Lopez smiled. It's been ages since I last saw my Santana smiled. Wait—San's not mine, or at least not yet. Or if I ran out of luck, maybe she will never be. But I'm happy that she did smile. Doctor Robbins sure knows how to make things bright. I'm glad she's around.<em>

_I was so engrossed in what I was witnessing when I felt someone tapped my shoulder. I almost jumped in surprise to feel someone differently from the way I felt Santana or Brittany, or the nurses visiting me once in a while. It hasn't been a year yet, but I am already estranged to such senses. _

_Anyway, it was a guy in a military uniform who tapped me. His hair was neatly shaven and he wore a sweet smile on his face._ _There was sorrow in his eyes but he seemed to be a nice person, I could tell by his aura. He's wearing an official military uniform so he must be a hero of some kind. I don't really trust just an acquaintance but this guy was different. If I was not in the hospital, I swear I could have said I was looking at an angel._

_He gestured somewhere towards the end of the corridor, asking for me to follow him. I'd rather not move away from my Santana, but he was persistent. I thought, there's nothing to lose anyway, so I followed him._

_I left my San and I followed him._

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><p>After minutes of silence, Arizona's pager went berserk, beeping like hell. The blonde's bright face turned the opposite as she looked into it. Santana noticed the change of atmosphere but thought it was just another case of a dying child.<p>

"Crap! It couldn't be… This is way off the schedule!" The pediatric surgeon panicked. She almost ran as soon as she glanced at her pager, but stopped herself for a moment to calm herself.

"I-I have to… It's a…" She said. Her voice was half trembling.

The young Latina, confused at Arizona's odd behavior to a supposedly normal situation at a hospital, nodded at surgeon.

"I understand. Go, kick some ass." Santana smirked at the surgeon. She then saw a hint of tears at the woman's eyes. However, the blonde forced a smile and that reassured Santana.

"People we love never really leave us, you know." The doctor said before she finally exited the room. That left Santana quite hanging.

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><p><em>I had a lot of questions to the guy, like where we were headed, what was his name or why he asked me to come. But the guy was too reserved. I was not even sure if he was aware of my existence behind him.<em>

"I know you have a lot of questions in mind, Lucy." The guy in the military uniform spoke.

_Wait, what did he just call me?_

"Yes, I know your name. We all do. In fact, they're all expecting you already." He continued, occasionally glancing at Quinn as he spoke.

_Fuck, this guy's a mind reader!_

"Don't worry. I can't read your mind. I just assumed that you're wondering how I got your name." Quinn raised an eyebrow and stopped walking. The guy stopped too, a few steps ahead of her.

"Okay, so you're not reading my mind but you're answers are kind of exactly what my questions are about." She said to him, who then started to look worried.

The guy was fidgeting too. "Well, yeah. I just get that a lot. I'm used to it already."

"I don't understand." Quinn started to pace back and forth.

"We can talk about it as we go on."

"Go on to where?"

The guy almost rubbed his temple but kept his hands on his sides. "I shouldn't really be the one to tell you stuff. You have to see it for yourself."

_Wait, I couldn't be… No, I'm not…_

"Nah, I'm not buying that. You see, we're both ethereal—you and I, and I have been so patient following you into this seemingly endless corridor when, in fact, I wanted to go back to my room so bad. So unless you tell me the what, when, where, how and why of all of this…" Quinn pointed to nowhere in particular. "I'm not taking another step forward."

Quinn crossed her arms; her HBIC mode on as she glared at the guy.

_Ha. You've got the wrong bitch, buddy._

"Okay, I guess we can delay for a moment."

The guy gave in. He scratched the back of his head. He composed himself and faced the confused blonde. His face turned serious, without the entire worried look he had earlier.

"My name's George O'Malley, and you, Lucy Quinn Fabray—"

"Could you stop calling me that, please?" The blonde exclaimed, irritated by the guy, George, using her full name.

George was quite stunned by the blonde's cut, but he continued.

"You are making the transition."

"How—what transition? What do you mean?"

George let out a deep sigh before he continued.

"It means you're dying."

* * *

><p>And then it just happened.<p>

"Q-Quinn…?" Santana screamed.

Quinn's heart beat rate increased rapidly. The nurse nearby entered the room and pushed the button on the bed. Instantly, a number of nurses and doctors flooded the room. One of them escorted Santana out of the room.

"W-what's happening? Tell me what's going on!" The young Latina exclaimed. Her eyes were filled with horror.

"I will after I learn it myself, okay?" The guy wearing a light blue robe said to the young Latina.

She wanted to argue a bit more, but the doctor rushed back in and helped everyone inside.

Everything was happening too quickly that she didn't even have time to panic. Her mind shut down. All she could do was watch from the outside as the doctors pull a familiar machine closer to Quinn.

Santana wanted to move. She wanted to return back to the room but her feet were glued to the ground. She couldn't process what was happening, not until she heard them.

"We're losing her!"

"No, no, no! Charge to 200, clear!"

And then a continued plain sound of the ECG losing heart beat echoed in her ears. There was no more heartbeat even if the machine was supposed to put it there.

She was losing her, that's what's happening.

She's losing Quinn Fabray.


	2. Chapter I: Heart Beats Fast

**A/N**: Like the prologue, this one's Quinn-centric. All mistakes are mine.

**Disclaimer: **Glee and Grey's Anatomy aren't mine. I own nothing but my imagination.

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><p><strong>Chapter I: <strong>**Heart Beats Fast**

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><p>There were so many things to worry about high school. High grades, right cliques, cool clubs, hot boyfriend or girlfriend, and a lot more. But why do people worry about such stuff? Yes, for one thing—<em>reputation<em>.

There were so many different ways, different paths, and different fights to take but only one goal and that was, to get to the top. Most people think that having an immense reputation was essential to survive high school. Maybe it was, maybe it was not.

But the thing was… that's what most people in William McKinley High thought. Every day, they entered the school premises with a goal to boost their reputation; in any manner it could be done. People do it more often than breathing to build up pride and dignity, to boost their egos.

Well, just because you breathe more doesn't mean you get to live more.

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><p>Quinn grunted as their Chemistry teacher continued to write a lengthy lecture on the board. But don't get her wrong, she's a straight A student and she have absolutely no plan of ruining that part of her. It's not nomenclature, chemistry or science in general that pissed her off, but that particular bond drawn on the side of the board.<p>

_Oxytocin: the love hormone._

The blonde rolled her eyes and turned to the window. She couldn't remember when or how she started to hate the word _'love'. _She just did. Perhaps it started after she realized that her relationship with Finn was falling apart, or with Sam. Or maybe it was when she realized that everyone had someone; Finn and Rachel, Puck and Lauren, Tina and Mike, Kurt and Blaine, Sam and Mercedes, Artie and Brittany, Santana and… Okay, maybe not everyone. But the other ex-Cheerio was getting as much sex as the others because she could steal Brittany away from the crippled kid whenever she wanted to. Yes, she knew what's happening between the two since day one.

And that left Quinn alone. She's got straight A's, the crown of a prom queen, the soul of a religious daughter, the voice and the face of an angel, the body of an ex-head cheerleader—almost everything except _love._ Clearly, reputation wasn't everything. You could go high up all you want, but that's not a guarantee that Cupid's going to put you first on his list.

Time passed by slower than usual which made the blonde grunted even more. She already learned the subject matter during her second year Biology and she knew that Oxytocin was involved in social recognition and bonding, in trust between people and generosity. As their teacher was mentioning the hormone's biological half-life, Puck raised his hand.

"Isn't that the same hormone that causes orgasm?" He inquired, with a touch of seriousness, at the teacher who was glaring at him. Some students chuckled around him. Quinn rolled her eyes. She forgot Puck was in the same room.

"Oxytocin may have a role in a behavior such as _orgasm_, Puckerman, but it's definitely not the cause. Read your notes carefully." The Mohawk-haired boy merely shrugged and the teacher continued.

"As I was saying, it only takes one to six minutes for the blood plasma concentration of a substance—"

"Is that why it's called the _love hormone_? Because of its _role_ during orgasm?"

Puck asked again, and that one earned louder laughs from the class. The teacher shot him another glare before walking closer to him. "I'm afraid your definition of love does not meet the definition a more matured person, such as myself, have in mind."

Everyone in the room hushed at the teacher's remark. Quinn raised her eyebrows in astonishment. It sure must've hit Puck at some point. He changed now though. He's a stick-to-one- type of guy, having Lauren as her girlfriend. It's not all about the fuck now.

* * *

><p>The bell rang and everyone stood up, exiting the room as fast as they could. It was their last class anyway. The blonde grabbed her book and joined the crowd, not noticing Puck behind her.<p>

"Hey," He said. The ex-head Cheerio turned her head a bit and saw the guy grinning.

"Hey back," Quinn replied. She felt bad for Puck, being in a situation he was in moments ago.

"You okay?"

The blonde was surprised at the sudden question of the guy. She raised her brows in confusion.

"Shouldn't I be the one asking you that?" Puck laughed at the blonde as they walked towards the lockers.

"Oh come on, I was just making things light. That room was so dead, you know." He said in between smirks.

"You mean, you knew the right answer but you insisted on asking ridiculous questions?" She replied, looking more confused.

"Yeah, Lauren lent me her Chemistry notes the other day and I've read it. Interesting things, these hormones are." His smirk faded as he put on the code and opened his locker.

Quinn reached for her locker too. They were two doors away from each other. It was surprising for Puck to actually read notes and do academic stuffs. Lauren was definitely doing a good job taming him. Maybe that's what _love_ does.

She shook the thoughts off her mind.

_Why should love butt in every so often?_

Returning back to reality, Quinn noticed how empty the corridor had been, Puck gone along with the crowd. In a few seconds, the bell will stop and it'll be time for Glee club. She's running late already.

Quickly, she pushed her locker's door and run. As she was making her way to the club, a familiar voice coming from one of the supposed-to-be emptied room stopped her on her tracks. She peaked on the room and saw the other two ex-Cheerio's hand in hand.

_Of course_.

Quinn felt a pinch to her heart upon seeing the two. It has been years, but her feelings remained the same. She tried God knows how many different ways to forget the first day, that very first…

It was ironic how she'd always witness the two make-out—Quinn, of all people. It was as if fate's playing a prank on her, mocking her stupid little feelings for the Latina, reminding her how they could never have a chance. But each time, the ex head cheerleader would simply shove the idea off her mind. It's not like she had any other choice anyway.

The smaller blonde rolled her eyes, bit her lips and continued onto the club. She had seen that scene before—in the dressing room, the restrooms, the empty classrooms, the janitor's closet and other places. She knew exactly what was bound to happen.

Not this time though.

* * *

><p>"Britt?" The raspy voice echoed in the room.<p>

"No—I'm sorry, San. I just can't do it anymore…" The soft sweet voice of the taller blonde echoed back.

The Latina sighed as she put her hands on the taller ex-Cheerio's shoulders. "We've already talked about it, right B? This isn't cheating because—"

Brittany cut the brunette, looking all confused. "Really, now? Because I love Artie, and I love you too. Artie and I had sex and so did we. I don't understand, what's the difference between our relationship to Artie and mine?"

Santana rolled her eyes. She knew this could happen anytime soon, she just wasn't expecting it to be at that moment.

They have been best friends since day one of high school. They did almost everything together. They're like sewed at the hip—they had the best friendship there was. They act more of themselves when they're together—or at least, Santana did since Brittany was always herself.

The Latina was happy to have such friend, although part of her was filled with guilt. She tried to make herself believe that it was Brittany she wanted. She was so comfortable with the taller blonde that she took their friendship for granted and used it to ease the pain she had been concealing all those times.

"San...?" The taller blonde said, trying to win the brunette's attention. "Santana…" She said louder.

Santana looked up at her best friend, seeing she had been talking to her for a while now. She opened her mouth to speak, but closed it again, realizing she zoned out a bit.

Brittany held the smaller girl's hands and squeezed it. "I'm saying it's over, S. We can't continue doing this, not knowing where we're headed."

"I…" The Latina started but she didn't know exactly what to say.

The thought of having less time with her best friend depressed her. That fact saddened her even more because if she was in love with Brittany, it should hurt—a lot. She should be crying right now, asking Brittany to stop, fighting for what she wanted. Was that what she really wanted?

It was the same reason why she didn't do feelings. Getting attached to someone will most likely lead you into getting hurt. And she couldn't take another heartache—not anymore, not ever since…

"I love you Santana. I love you more than I ever love anyone in the world." The taller blonde said, with eyes pleading.

"I love you too, Britt, you know that." The brunette replied unconvincingly.

"No, San. You have to say it like you mean it." The brunette crossed her arms and cocked her head. Guilt hidden behind that innocent look she posed.

"But, B. I-I do mean it..." She looked down before she continued. "You're my best friend, remember?"

The taller blonde didn't turn her gaze away from the brunette. She definitely didn't miss the way Santana broke eye contact with her as she mouthed those words.

Brittany moved closer to the raven-haired ex-Cheerio, tipped her chin to face her. The Latina found it hard to make further eye contact with blonde. It was because of the fact that no matter how much she tried to make herself believe deep down inside she knew that Brittany will forever be her best friend—nothing more than that.

She took their friendship for granted. She took advantage of the loving blonde, giving her the wrong impressions she knew could hurt her one day.

And that day was today.

"Look me in the eyes, and tell me you love me."

Those words shook her to her core. She couldn't do it. She couldn't utter those three words. She couldn't even look into her eyes at all.

"I-I don't want to see you hurt, Britt…" Santana said without looking. Her voice shook as she fought the tears building up in her eyes.

The taller ex-Cheerio slowly tipped the brunette's head up. Santana's tears were on the verge of streaming down her face but she held it in. Their eyes connected for a brief moment before Brittany put her hand over the brunette's eyes, closing it.

A tear fell from the dancer's eyes.

"How about now?"

Brittany's voice trembled in defeat. She already knew the answer long ago. She just wanted Santana to face it this time.

The brunette remained silent for a moment. She could see the blonde hurting even with her eyes closed. She could feel it. As she pursed her lips, tears started to stream down her cheeks. The taller ex-Cheerio breathed deeply, not wanting Santana to hear her sob. She placed a hand on the brunette's cheek and wiped a tear before she exit the room.

* * *

><p>The corridor was almost empty, if not for Quinn, hiding beside the lockers as Brittany walked out of the room. She leaned against the old painted wall and sighed.<p>

_That was close._

Her heart was pounding inside her chest. She stared at the ceiling and felt the heat that embraced her body. It was the best rush she ever had for a while.

_What are you doing, Quinn? Trying to get caught? _

For a moment, she laughed to herself. If she was caught, her chance with Santana would turn from zero to… well, it'll probably remain at zero.

A sound of door opening brought Quinn back to reality. She almost forgot about Santana who was still inside the room—getting out of the room. She hastily composed herself and went out of hiding. The instant she looked up from fixing her top, a face of an angel met with hers.

_Oh—_

She was obviously caught off guard.

"What's up with you, tubers? Seen a ghost?" The Latina asked with her arms crossed.

Quinn couldn't guess what her face looked like upon seeing Santana, but she was surprised indeed. There were no traces of anything that happened inside the room, and only few minutes had passed.

_Why, of course. Typical Santana._

There were sadness in her gorgeous brown eyes, but there was something else. It looked somewhat ambivalent to Quinn.

Her eyes trailed down to the brunette's luscious lips, seemingly inviting hers. And then there's her neck, her collar bone, her...

_Inhale, exhale. That's right. Just breathe. _

The blonde gulped at sight of beauty in front of her. It was the closest they've ever been in months after New York. The ex-Cheerio cleared her throat and looked away. She can't lose over her feelings_._

"Skipping Glee?" The blonde said without looking at Santana.

_Save._

The brunette merely shrugged. "I have other things to do—better ones."

"Yeah? Like what, exactly?" She looked at Santana this time. Actual curiosity struck her.

Santana leaned in closer and whispered to Quinn's ear.

"Like things that would hurt your cute little Catholic bum, sweetheart." The brunette smirked in her place.

The touch of the brunette's breath sent shivers all over the blonde's body. She felt her cheeks burned, her heart thumped hard in her chest. But she can't let her feelings win over her.

_She's just trying to act normal, Quinn. This is typical Santana, and her defenses are all up._

So she resorted to walking away instead.

"Yeah, whatever, good luck with that." She spat without looking back, leaving Latina behind.

_I can't, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry._

Santana stood in the middle of the corridor where Quinn left her. Her hands still crossed on her chest. Her smirked turned into a small, bittersweet smile, her eyes locked on the blonde walking away from her. She then looked down and turned the other way.

Quinn walked rather fast away from the brunette. She let go of the breath she didn't realized she held as she moved farther away from Santana. Her pace slowed down, and her heart beat almost normalized. When she made quite a distance, she looked behind her—back at Santana, who was then almost out of sight.


	3. Chapter II: Colors and Promises

**A/N**: There will be some thoughts from Santana this time, to balance it-although my first idea was to make it Quinn-centric. I'll be happy to hear it from all of you. :) No Grey's Anatomy on this chapter. And oh, all mistakes are mine! :)

**Disclaimer: **Glee and Grey's Anatomy aren't mine. I own nothing but my imagination.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter II: Colors and Promises<strong>

* * *

><p>Quinn tossed and turned as she thought of that day's events. She sure liked the flirty Santana she met earlier, but she knew that it was just a front. The Latina was merely trying to look tough, hiding her pain behind her walls.<p>

There was a time when the two of them were almost best friends. They comfort each other with tough, and often times out of the line, remarks which did them pretty good considering that they were the school's head bitches, on top of the McKinley High food chain. They never had sappy pep talks. They avoided it both for their own sake. And that worked well for them, at least.

Despite the constant pain of seeing her co-Cheerios happy together, Quinn managed to get through it, one day after the other. She had to. It was something she needed to do if she wanted to keep Santana close. It somehow worked, nonetheless. Something may come up once in a while, but the three of them were sure to make it through. The Unholy Trinity had that bond between and among them that no one else could break-no one except themselves.

And maybe, that's what's bound to happen. No-that's what happened.

_Is this even real? Santana, rejecting Brittany is one of the most shocking revelations of all. How is that even possible? They're sewed at the hips; the inseparable two of the Unholy Trinity; the most controversial best friends of all. _

Quinn had to admit that not so long after the establishment of the Unholy Trinity, Santana and Brittany had been the closest of them three. It has always been the two of them. In classes, projects, Glee, Cheerio, hangouts, trips, vacations—always Brittany and Santana. They would have been the most stable and most envied couple in Glee, even in the entire William McKinley High, if only they admitted their relationship.

And that hurts Quinn.

A _lot_.

She already accepted the fact that she had no chance with the gorgeous Latina because of Brittany, and also because Santana seemed to loathe her most of the time. They're friends, sometimes; often acquaintance, mostly frenemies. Their lines seemed to go against each other. They wouldn't fit the same boat.

The smaller blonde had no chance.

No chance at all.

_And now they're breaking up? No, technically, they're not breaking up because they have yet to actually recognize their romantic relationship. I was supposed to be the antagonist in their story. But the movie ended before it even started. _

Yes.

_They're breaking up. No, they broke up… _

Quinn mentally slapped herself as she tossed and turned on her bed, thinking of what happened earlier that day. Since there was no Cheerio practice, she went home straight after Glee. As expected, Santana was missing-in-action. Brittany was there, though, with Artie. She tried to act giddy but the smaller blonde knew better.

_Should I be happy about this?_

The thought of her and Santana together came in her mind. Now that Brittany was out of the picture, there could be a chance for her. A slight chance, but still a chance nonetheless. Yet again, the youngest Fabray, mentally slapped herself.

_Stupid! How can I be so selfish? She was hurt. Santana was hurt. How can I be celebrating this? _

The sound of clock ticking as seconds passed by echoed in the room. Quinn sighed in desperate need of quiet time from her mind. It was half quarter after eleven and the gears in her brain have yet to stop. Her mind wouldn't shut up.

_Why do I even care about what happened? It shouldn't bother me. I was long over those feelings._

Those feelings.

After a few more minutes of unconscious tosses and turns, Quinn sat up.

_Just get the fuck out of my mind already!_

She wasn't even sure if she's really into girls. She liked girls—no, she liked _one _girl. And boys, they don't thrill her that much. Her relationship with Finn sure was something, but she knew deep down that her feelings for the gigantor wasn't that serious. Besides, she needed Finn, for a better reputation, she didn't exactly want him. As for Sam, she merely tried it out. Rachel and Finn made quite an effort for the two of them and she didn't want to disappoint them, somehow. The new guy needed reputation boost, too, anyway.

Time passed by slower than it seemed. The blonde grunted as she turned once more. It was the typical Lucy Quinn Fabray-hopelessly-in-love-with-Santana night. It was the same dilemma she dealt with every night since she laid her eyes on the Latina. It was her beautiful disaster, and she loved every bit of it.

* * *

><p>Santana kept on playing the scene that happened earlier that day inside her head. She kept on rejecting the fact the blonde might have possibly blushed during their conversation.<p>

_That's just impossible. It's Quinn anyway. She hates me._

YES. Her mid was more occupied by that slight gesture from the smaller blonde than the appalling incident between her and Brittany.

The Latina retrieved a cigarette out of the secret pocket inside her bag and lit it. It has been months since she last smoke; it has been months since she last _needed_ to smoke. Well, the fact that she lost her diversion, and most probably her best friend too, sure called for a smoke break.

She was no longer surprised by what happened between her and Brittany. She knew that day would come. And she will be then alone again, maybe for good.

There was no doubt that she loved Brittany, as her best friend. The taller blonde gave her the comfort that she had been longing for. Well, not exactly what she wanted, but needed instead.

A breathe of menthol soothed her throat, and calmed her body. From then on there will no longer be a Brittany by her side almost all of the time, no one to turn to when it hurts like hell; no one to turn to when Quinn is around. Sure, there were other good looking ladies around William McKinley High, but no one half as dazzling as the shorter blonde who had her heart since day one.

_Should I try Berry?_

Santana shook her head and laughed at the thought. She puffed a cloud of smoke as she lay her head down on the grass. The hill behind their house has been her haven. That's where she spent her solitary nights, mostly to ponder on things she couldn't simply tell anyone.

_Maybe it's time I face the truth._

As soon she's done with her cigarette, the Latina closed her eyes. Truth had been haunting her since she was a kid. She played hide and seek with it. She continued to run away from it, without a plan of turning back.

_I can still remember the very first day I laid eyes on her. It was during 5__th__ grade, if I'm not mistaken. It was at the central park. The place was crowded with children of our age and younger. She was sitting alone under a tree, far away from other children, from us. _

_I was standing at the top of the monkey bars, bragging how badass I was, when I saw her with her oversized glasses dangling from her ear. Apparently, one of the taller kids pushed her to the ground. She was crying as the boys called her "Lucy Caboosey". Not before long, more children chanted along. I was so irritated that I wanted to punch the boy straight to the face. Not because I care about her. I didn't even know her name then. I just hate bullying so much._

_But I couldn't. As I was making my way down the monkey bars, I noticed that one of the boys was the kid I hated and feared at the same time. He was way taller than me and bigger too. But that's not why I feared him. I didn't care how petty I looked beside him. I was scared for my secret that he, unfortunately, knew. Yeah, the boy once saw me kissing a picture of Anne Hathaway and assumed that I was gay. The scariest part was that he knew my parents, his parents knew my parents, and my parents knew him and his parents—so well. If he ever slipped to my parents what he saw, even if it was just a joke, I'm done. My parents were one of the most homophopic couples in Lima._

_So, instead of avenging for poor little Lucy, I backed off. I got scared. I wasn't able to stand for what I believed in. A few moments later, Judy came in and the crowd dispersed. She was left alone, sitting under the tree, glasses on her hands, tears falling down her face. I heard her mother called her out, "Come now, Lucy", and she stood, wiped the tears off her cheeks and wore her glasses back on like nothing happened._

_I knew it wasn't on me, but I still felt guilty. And I believed in karma, the good and the bad. So each day that Lucy was there, I made it a point that the bullies' attentions would turn on me, and not on her. I made out stories and brag just to buy her some time until her mom comes back. _

_One afternoon, I walked into the park. It was winter, that's why there were just a few kids in it—and one of them was Lucy. She was at her usual spot, building a small snow man with few sticks. She looked somewhat peaceful without the threats around her. That made me smile a bit. At least I didn't have to make a scene today, I thought._

_I was too occupied to notice the slippery floor in front of me. I stumbled into the frozen ground and hit my bum. The pain belted through my body. I screamed out at the top of my lungs. Hell, it was so embarrassing. I had my eyes closed for a moment as I bitterly savored the pain. And then I remembered someone calling out to me. The angelic voice came closer, asking me if I was alright. I opened my eyes and saw an angel, indeed._

_It was Lucy._

_Yeah, she was still a red head then, a bit overweight, and she had a terrible acne. Have I mentioned that she also had buck teeth? Well, yes, she had it during 5__th__ grade. But she also wore those huge glasses, which magnified her eyes._

_Those fucking gorgeous hazel eyes._

_It was true beauty that I saw. Lucy sat in front of me. She was looking directly into my eyes, mouthing words I could no longer comprehend. It was like staring at her soul. And I know that she had hazel eyes, but swear I saw colors of great magnitude, promising a pure soul within her. I drowned deeper into her as the seconds passed by. _

"_Are you okay?" She said again. _

_It took me forever to answer a simple, "yes". She helped me stood up and supported me until I was able to stand on my own. And when I finally did, we were standing side by side. She was still looking at me. I saw it through my peripheral. _

_Fate must be having fun with me then as I slipped again, only to be caught by her that time._

"_You got to be more careful now." She finally said to me, after her momentary chuckle. And then there was that smile—not just with her lips and those overwhelming buck teeth, but with her eyes as well. Like a genuine smile a baby would give her dad upon receiving a candy from him. _

_I felt my heart leaped, and my cheeks burned—and it wasn't even the weather. Well, unfortunately, that's where the good part ends because as soon as I realized what I was feeling during those moments, I stepped back. I moved away from Lucy. _

_Her sweet smile slowly faded, her au burn hair covered part of her face as the wind blew, and her eyes no longer glimmered. It was as if she knew what was going to happen next. And I'm afraid that I didn't disappoint her on that matter._

_The strange feeling engulfed my whole body. It was too overwhelming, and that frightened me. At that point I didn't care how she looked because I had a better view of her. I saw her heart. And that scared the shit out of me._

_So I ran away._

_I ran away from Lucy because I was afraid to admit that I had those inappropriate feelings for a girl whose name was the only thing I knew about her._

_I was scared to admit that I might have fallen in love with her._

Ever since that day, Santana didn't dare to deal with _that _feeling again. She was young, and frightened by the overwhelming mandate of society. She was afraid to be different; afraid to lose her reputation, her friends, and even her family.

Santana opened her eyes and the pitch black night greeted her. That's how her emotions had been for a long time: endless, dark, empty—or she thought so.

There were few clouds covering the sky. The moon was partly visible and there were few not-so-bright stars around. But Santana knew better. Through her peripheral, she could sense one bright star shinning on the far left of the sky. And she didn't dare look at it, same as how she didn't dare to confront her buried yet undying feelings for someone so special.

_Why _would be a simple question, but the answer was tremendously tough—or maybe not. Santana knew exactly what the answer would be.

Problem was, she wasn't brave enough to accept it.


End file.
